"A name? Promise?" She grins as if making a joke, shifting from one foot to another.
Considering how Tieflings generally have names based on concepts, that very well could be hers, 'Promise'.
She tilts her head to the side, her hands behind her back, "Shoso Makenzie, entertainer extrapoordinare! I quote plays, dance, tumble... " She leans forward in a stage whisper, far too loud for it to be secretive, "When I haven't been drinking!" and then gestures around, "all around busybody, and self-promoter!"
"Uh huh. ... I think we're going to get along just fine. Trust me, I'm a lot more fun when I'm not running around trying to find someone who controlled my mind and sent me flying into a city of undead to murder people. Take me to this guy, that I might introduce my boots to his face."
She holds out the three gold coins in her palm...and then closes her hand before Shoso could try to reach for them.
"But you don't get the gold until we actually find the guy. Unless anyone else has other ideas."
Shoso leans in eagerly, her tone committal "And you will show me how to kick people in the ear." She glances over the motley group, "A..hobgoblin in armor....a humie...a orc...or part orc" She pauses, assessing the seen figures. "I've not seen such racial diversity outside of sensitivity training." She clenches her fists as she laughs, "So you must be adventurers!"
Putting together the pieces of the conversation, and looking the two new arrivals with scrutiny, Rothel reacts to Shoso's evaluation. "Adventurers? Why that is a most preposterous assumption. Why would one with any sense of self-preservation, or common sense, go seeking life threatening situations for the mere thrill of acts of death-defying derring-do. Less so for the minor possiblity of shiny baubles gained to exhibit one's 'prowess' at aforementioned risk of death. I am uncertain of the other's intentions, but I myself do not go seeking adventure, I seek to right wrongs exacted by one of my previous and less righteous incarnations."
Bubbling to the surface, barely contained before he can't help himself, "The word you failed to use correctly earlier is pinnacle. You claim to be the 'Pinnacle' of your profession. Secondly, your choice of the word 'extrapoordinaire' was possibly a self-fulfilling mispronunciation. It is 'extraordinaire'. I hasten to offer insight, in that you may not suffer these slips in linguistics were you to avoid your self-acknowledged fallability of overindulging in alcoholic beverages."
"All that said, does not excuse me from introducing myself as is expected under conditions of making someone's acquaintance. My name is Rothel Nelis, a Deva for this current incarnation, and a coercer of the spirits of the fallen to aid the living. Nice to meet you Henry Porter, it will be nice to have another practicioner of the benefits of an educational focus. I also greet you Shoso."
"As for me, I'm more of a Wanderer. The Adventuring thing is just a side benefit... and welcome back to the party, Rothel."
Anri takes a moment to look Shoso up and down.
"I can show you how to kick someone in the ear, but are you that flexible?"
The sounds of the screaming choir provide a mellow backdrop to the Freeport morning as the companions exchange names and credentials. Even for this town, however, the diversity of the group draws a few curious looks.
You seem to be drawing some cautious attention. Swarmy, Bustnose and Whiney have long gone, but word seems to have travelled that you are well able to take care of yourselves. Most unusually, nobody seems inclined to try and rob you.
Apart from the expected docks, a surprising number of important looking buildings line the shore. The most prominent landmark is the all-important lighthouse, and sheltering in its shadow, a pair of rather grandiose buildings. One seems to be yet another pub, but the other boasts arcane services for hire and seems to be the natural starting point for finding a wizard.
The malapropping tiefling regards Rothiel for a moment, perhaps a bit of drunken sway in her posture, " Well....Expose me!"
Anri quips, "Expose you? He hardly knows you."
The tiefling suddenly looks at Rothiel with...offense and outrage? spurred on by Anri's addendum "You, good sir insult me! I have half a mind to not take you down to the brothel, and the other half agrees with me!"
Rothel is flustered and a little confused by the exchange, "I have no desire to visit a brothel, so in that I thank you for not intending to lead me thus." he turns to Anri, and just adds "I would request that you not encourage her to continue with her inappropriate use of language."
"Apology accepted." Shoso does indeed start leading the group to a brothel, in hopes of tracking down this Ballian Neerut, and her three gold.
Regardless of Rothel's scruples, Shoso makes her way unerringly through a set of seedy backstreets to a small square. Madame Fisk's establishment is colourful, well advertised and verging on the tawdry. The lady herself is a well built half-orc with sequinned tusks and a cheery greeting for Shoso.
"Back again? You sure you don't want to take up that offer I made you? Better money than singing and trust me on this, shorter hours."
The tiefling squints, "I see WAY too much of what people want as it is. Are the regulars about?...assuming their pants aren't down. The guy with the tassles."
As they walk Anri gives Rothel a quick aside:
"I'm doing you a favor buddy. This isn't the last time you'll have to deal with the baser side of mere mortals. Better you take a little ribbing from me and the Tiefling in a safe environment, so you know how to deal with it when... well, too late, we've hit the brothel."
Anri cracks her knuckles, content to let Shoso do the talking for now.
Lyan also lets Shoso do the talking, but looks forward to this. He hasn't relaxed (his definition) in far too long.
Madame Fisk rolls her eyes. "Ballian? You got bad taste there girl. Second room on the right and make sure he pays you."
She casts a speculative eye on the rest of the party.
"Just don't bust the place up, cos if you do, I'll have get active. You don't want to see that."
She says brightly, perhaps intentionally adding confusion. "He's not paying me." She jerks a finger to Anri, "She is!"
Shoso trots over to the door, "Here you go. Just don't draw me into an unintentional fight that forces me to to flee the region and saddle up with a motley group of adventurers who show me a greater purpose in life and find the true meaning of friendship."
Anri winks at Madame Fisk.
"What can I say, I like it kinky."
She pauses before she walks through the door.
"And Shoso, I fear you'll join us before too long: very few lean on the fourth wall as hard as you do without serving a greater destiny. This I have learned in my travels..."
Lyan selects the most delicate-appearing employee. Preferably fey.
She glances over the motley group, "A..hobgoblin in armor....a humie...a orc...or part orc" She pauses, assessing the seen figures. "I've not seen such racial diversity outside of sensitivity training." She clenches her fists as she laughs, "So you must be adventurers!"
"Part orc's the closest. I'm one quarter orc on my mother's side, and a quarter of elven blood from my dad. The rest is human."
"Although had you really been to sensitivity training you would have learnt that we prefer the term: 'Orcish-Nerathi'."
"All that said, does not excuse me from introducing myself as is expected under conditions of making someone's acquaintance. My name is Rothel Nelis, a Deva for this current incarnation, and a coercer of the spirits of the fallen to aid the living. Nice to meet you Henry Porter, it will be nice to have another practicioner of the benefits of an educational focus. I also greet you Shoso."
"Well met, Rothel Nelis. My alma mater was Gandalf Lundgren's School of Hard Knocks, so I hope you won't be disappointed that the benefits of my education are limited beyond anything besides a career in adventuring."
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Lyan selects the most delicate-appearing employee. Preferably fey.
Not wanting to seem like a square , and feeling guilty for disrupting Madame Fisk's mode of business, the thief consults one of the girls with fey features.
"Now I know some of those massage places have something called 'a happy ending'. So what if I just want a massage for my tired, over-encumbered shoulders? What do I ask for here? 'A sad beginning'?"
Lyan looks about him and sees that Madame Fisk follows an inclusive racial policy. Delicacy is not in great supply, but he spots a graceful drow idly twanging a harp with more enthusiasm than expertise.
Norrin's approach pays dividends. "I can sort your shoulders, no problem. Let's just call it a "convenient starter"".
Madame points a long finger at Shoso. "I don't do rental. You use my girls and boys or you get out. If you want fun and games with the little jaw-kicker, do it in your own place. If you just want some muscle to back you up with Ballian, be my guest. He's getting irritating. No mess, mind."
Lyan gets suggestive in Elvish.
Lyan vanishes into the bowels of Madame Fisk's establishment and is (presumably) out of contact if things go badly with Ballian.
"Part orc's the closest. I'm one quarter orc on my mother's side, and a quarter of elven blood from my dad. The rest is human."
"Although had you really been to sensitivity training you would have learnt that we prefer the term: 'Orcish-Nerathi'."
"I wasn't paying attention. Anyway, the gent you're looking for, with the tassles. Front Desk said he was right through here. Kick him in the ear or something. Just don't block my view."
Anri starts off toward the room of "Tassles" with a spring in her step, cracking her knuckles, with an expression somewhere between murderous and fueled with dread.
She says, "He hangs out here, and they can't stand him... if he did anything ELSE to me while I was sleeping, I swear by all that's holy I cannot be held responsible by any court for my actions."
Shoso stands next to Anri defiantly, " Because that costs extra!"
Anri manages a tiny smile.
"Only once, Shoso, and I was extremely drunk, and had a good time, and well... I'd definitely had fun. NOT worth the embarrassment, however."
She opens the door for the room of "Tassles", tapping the hilt of her blade gently.
Henry reminisces from the comfort of an overstuffed chair.
"I knew a Balian once, one Balian de Ibelin. Tragically his distraught wife committed suicide shortly after their child died during birth. Then he was provoked into allegedly killing the local priest in self-defence while being run out of town, and last I heard he sought atonement for his wife and himself in the Fourth Crusade alongside a ranger and a barbarian."
Shoso adds matter of fact, "That's where I tell people Tieflings come from....a Curseade."
"Well, it's certainly more succinct than 'my ancestors-thought-it-was-a-good-idea-at-the-time'."
"Clock says another ten minutes," calls someone from behind the door.
Anri glares at the door. Obviously, she's considering how she wants to do this.
She whispers to the people with her, "...I really don't want to risk hurting the working girl. I say we wait ten minutes, the room will clear, then we go in."
Shoso tilts her head, "Is this just a rough-em-up thing? I was hoping there'd be accusations or something slanderous at least!" She sulks against the wall for a bit, "This hardly makes a good story so far."
Anri whispers back, "It's both! This guy could teleport us where we need to go if he was good enough to do what he did to me. The fact that I get to hurt him and...possibly do unto him as he did unto me...that's just a bonus."
She whispers conspiratorially "You could throw a Mazeltov Cocktail at him too."
Anri sighs, "Aren't cocktails something you want to drink?"
"I'm sure in a place like this you can do a lot more than that with them."
"Ah. I can't say I like the idea of using a dragonborn...pleasure implement. I do not understand the concept at all."
"This...reminds me of a story involving sandpaper."
"Sadly, we are outside of my area of expertise. So okay. What do you fight with? I suddenly realize that I don't know anything about you beyond the horns and the poetry."
"I don't do anything really." She says with a shrug.